It is Monday morning, and Delta Mike is dead.
Gamma Rhys informed Nevaeh and Aron around 3AM while she cuddled comfortably next to her mate in his hospital bed. Immediate guilt flushed over her as she studied the Gamma. Even though panic had untethered itself from her heart when Aron awoke, there were still others who were lost in that abysmal dark.
Nevaeh jerked upright, staring at Gamma Rhys in the scarcely lit room. It was the perfect atmosphere for the dread that pinched in her belly. The shadows covered everything but his eyes, yet his eyes held everything she needed anyway. He did look every bit as lost as Levi had said. “Ofa? What about Ofa?” Was it wrong to dismiss the Delta so quickly? Maybe. Maybe not, since they were both sinking on that same ship.
“s**t,” Aro
